Flat-Out Love

CHAPTER 32

 

 

Matthew Watkins When I screw up, I’m just going to think of it as the group disbanding. And by “the group” I mean “brain function.” And by “disbanding” I mean “failing miserably.”

 

Julie Seagle “The best way to hold a man is in your arms.”—Mae West

 

Celeste Watkins thinks the expression should be, “Free to be you OR me,” because “Free to be you AND me” makes one think of a dissociative identity disorder.

 

Her heart was pounding uncontrollably. Julie had to muster every scrap of courage she had just to ring the bell. She was on time for the party, but she hoped that she wasn’t too late for the most important thing.

 

Erin opened the door. “You’re here! Look at you! You look wonderful!”

 

Julie leaned in for a hug, smiling at Erin’s typically awkward embrace. “It’s a big day, huh?”

 

“A long overdue day. Come on, we’re all in the backyard.” Erin waited for Julie to step into the house. “Well, come on. Don’t be shy. This is practically your house too.”

 

Julie forced her feet to move. Breathe, breathe, breathe.

 

They walked to the dining room. A platter with bagels and spreads sat in the center of the table underneath a mass of balloons, and ribbons had been tied to the backs of the chairs. The room was lighter and cheerier than Julie had ever seen it.

 

“Tell me about your summer, Julie. You and I have barely seen each other in months, and I don’t like not knowing what’s going on with you. And have you registered for fall classes yet? I’d be honored to look over your course options with you.” She pulled out a chair. “Here, sit down. Coffee?”

 

Julie nodded. She spent twenty minutes trying her best to pay attention to Erin’s advice about the upcoming semester. She had missed Erin and was so happy to see how engaged and genuinely cheerful she was. But her mind was elsewhere.

 

Celeste bounded into the room and practically toppled her with a hug. “Why is it that nobody told me you had arrived? Oh my gosh! Are these for me?”

 

Julie nodded and handed her a massive bouquet of flowers. “Congratulations, pal. I know this day means a lot to you. It does to me too.”

 

“I’m going to find out if Roger is ready,” Erin said. “He has been in the basement for two hours, and the house is still sweltering.” She fanned herself with her hand as she left the room. “August in Boston never fails to infuriate me.”

 

“My dad is fiddling with the AC system,” Celeste explained. “Don’t go near him until he has finished because he’s not very adept and has already given himself two minor shocks. Did you see Matt yet? He’s hiding in the backyard. I think he’s nervous.”

 

“Join the club.”

 

Celeste touched Julie’s arm. “Do not be nervous, Julie. This is going to work out marvelously. I believe in you. Both of you.”

 

“We’ll see.”

 

Julie went through the kitchen and out through the back door to the porch.

 

He was there. Out on the lawn, standing with his back to her, his hands tucked into his shorts pockets. He looked amazing. Everything about him pulled her in. Julie touched her palm to her chest, reminding herself again to breathe, to calm down. “Matt.”

 

Matt turned around hesitantly and gave her a shy wave. He had on the same Nietzsche Is My Homeboy shirt that he’d worn the day she met him. It was exactly as it should be.

 

“Matty!” She called his name louder this time, wondering if he could hear the relief she felt at seeing him. She ran down the steps, needing him more than she could ever have imagined. It had been a long summer of heartache, but at least she finally knew whom her heart had been aching for.

 

She couldn’t reach him fast enough.

 

Matt rushed forward and caught her as she flew into his arms. She wrapped her legs around his waist and her arms around his neck, hugging him tightly. It had been so long since she had been close to him. Too long.

 

“Julie.” There was nothing more wonderful than the way he said her name. How had she never noticed that? “What’s wrong? Are you OK?” She heard his confusion and concern.

 

She laughed as she hung on to Matt. “I am now.”

 

She sniffed, aware that she’d become a blubbering mess in an instant. But that’s what love does to you. Gut-wrenching, overpowering, crushing, fulfilling, complex, bring-you-to-your-knees love.

 

“I missed you,” she whispered into his ear. And she had. His voice, his touch, the way he moved…everything about him.

 

“Yeah?” he asked softly.

 

“Yes. So much.”

 

He held her close while she rested her head on his shoulder and ran her hands over his back, neither of them willing to let the other go. And with the way they were glued to each other, she knew that this was not like the last time they had been this close. This was not good-bye.

 

“I’m so sorry. It was always you,” she said.

 

“What?” he murmured.

 

She lifted her head and pressed her cheek against his. “It was always you. I thought it was somebody else, but it was you. You were the person I felt.”

 

Julie heard him catch his breath, and she dropped her feet to the ground, keeping her body against his. Matt put his hands on her hips, pulling her in more. God, he felt so perfect. Then his lips were on hers, kissing her hard, passionately. Differently than before. No more pretending, no more denying, no more sadness. His fingers moved just under the bottom of her shirt, lightly brushing her lower back, and then her waist was in his hands. His grip was firm, solid, comforting. God, the feel of his hands against her skin…He kissed her neck, his lips soft, his tongue hot, and his breathing picking up. She whimpered quietly. He was such a guy, totally picking the worst time ever to get them all riled up. Later, she told herself. Later they could be alone.

 

Julie forced herself to back away ever so slightly. “Come on. We’re going to have an audience soon.” She grabbed his hand and pulled him behind her, determined not to let go of him again. “And we’re leaving in an hour.”

 

“I could make a lot of things happen in an hour,” Matt offered.

 

Julie spun around and raised an eyebrow as she walked backward. “I bet you could.” He was making it tempting to take off with him, but this day was important. “I promise you’ll have that chance. But for now, we have to go eat. You, Celeste, Flat Finn, and I are leaving together. We have someplace to be.”

 

“We do?”

 

“Yes.” She couldn’t stop smiling.

 

“I thought Flat Finn was being assigned attic duty for the rest of his existence?”

 

“Plans change.”

 

“So we don’t get to sneak off somewhere and fool around?” Matt groaned.

 

“Not yet.”

 

“These better be some damn good plans.”

 

 

 

“Look, this blindfold thing is really starting to creep me out. I don’t know when you became a dominatrix, Julie, but my sister is in the car, so it hardly seems appropriate to be demonstrating your specialized skills in front of her.” Matt reached to pull off the blindfold that Julie had tied over his eyes.

 

“Don’t you dare!” Celeste leaned into the front seat of the Volvo and smacked Matt’s hand. “Behave yourself. This is a good surprise.”

 

“Are we almost there yet? I’m hungry,” Matt said. “I need to pee. I’m bored. How much longer? Let’s play I Spy. Oh, wait. I can’t. I’m blindfolded. This is the worst trip ever!”

 

“Matt, shut up!” Julie pulled into the far right lane on the highway, keeping her hand in Matt’s. “Only one more exit, and then we’ll be there. This will be worth the two-hour drive. Trust us.”

 

“When you say worth, do you mean there will be cash incentives involved? Apple is having a press conference in a few days, and I’m sure they’ll be releasing some wildly unnecessary gadget that I need.”

 

“Celeste, make your brother behave,” Julie said.

 

“The fact that you are still holding his hand after he has been persistently annoying during this whole drive indicates to me that he is now equally your problem. I am going to enjoy this scenic drive and let you manage Matty’s irritating outbursts.”

 

“Great.” Julie sighed dramatically. “Lengthy bouts of obtuse chatter interspersed with moments of mind-numbingly boring trivia about the history of the Internet. It’s a tradeoff for the occasional bits of charm, I suppose,” Julie admitted. “But one that I’ll just have to live with.”

 

“I’m still here!” Matt hollered. “I can hear you talking about me. I have feelings, you know!” He faked a sob and sniffed loudly.

 

“I’ll make a note of that,” Julie said.

 

“Oh, Julie, there’s the sign,” Celeste said. “We’re here! This is the perfect send-off for Flat Finn. The real Finn would approve. You will too, Matty.”

 

Julie pulled the car into the parking lot. “Guess where we are?”

 

“Yosemite? The Grand Canyon?” Matt said. “Vegas? Oh my God, we’re in Vegas, aren’t we? Is Celine Dion here? Cher? Are we going backstage? No, it’s the Liberace Museum. I can feel it. It’s a dream come true! I’ve waited my whole life for this.”

 

“That is ridiculous, Matt,” Celeste scolded. “We are not in Las Vegas. Try harder.”

 

“Disney World? The Mall of America? Pike Place Fish Market? Graceland?”

 

“It’s flattering that he thinks we’re lame enough to subject him to a tourist trap, isn’t it? Celeste, he’ll never figure it out,” Julie said. “Let’s show him.” She slid the blindfold off his eyes and watched him. He adjusted to the light and read the sign in front of the car.

 

Matt was serious now. “I never would have guessed this was where you two were taking me.” He paused and bit his lip, a soft smile forming. “The last time I was here was with Finn.”

 

Julie clapped her hands together. “We’re going skydiving.”

 

He looked at her. “What do you mean we’re going?”

 

She nodded. “You’re not very bright, are you? I mean that you and I are going to jump out of a plane, and then a life-saving parachute thingy will pop out, and we will land on the ground in one piece.”

 

“Both of us are going?”

 

“Yes,” she said. “I want to jump with you, Matt. For real this time.”

 

She loved when he was speechless.

 

“And Flat Finn too,” Celeste said. “We called the skydiving center this week. They remember you and Finn, and they said that you could take Flat Finn when you jump. I think it’s a fitting way to celebrate. The real Finn would genuinely like this idea.”

 

“Of course I’ll take him,” Matt said. “Of course. Julie, are you sure about this?”

 

“Yes,” she said. And she meant it. She trusted him completely. “I want to do this with you.”

 

Matt leaned over and put a hand on the back of her neck. He pulled her in gently, kissing her softly and perfectly.

 

“I knew it!” Celeste squealed. “I told you, Julie, didn’t I? I said this would work out, and it has. Does this mean that there will not be any more unpleasant spats between you two? I found those squabbles to be incredibly disquieting.”

 

Julie sat back and laughed. “I don’t know about that.” She looked into Matt’s eyes. “Even so, I love you.”

 

Matt smiled at her and winked. “I know.”

 

Celeste and Julie both smacked him.

 

“This would be an appropriate time not to be a dork or a smartass,” Julie said.

 

Celeste popped her head into the front seat. “Be the hero, Matty. Come on. You’re supposed to be the hero now. The romantic lead.”

 

“I know that too,” he said. Matt did not hesitate a moment longer. “Julie, I love you. I absolutely love you.”

 

“Good,” Celeste said, satisfied. “Now it’s time to jump.”

 

 

 

 

 

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

 

 

Tremendous thanks to my entire family for putting up with my obsessive demeanor (and occasional lack of showering) while writing this book. A special thanks to my dad, who put on his psychotherapist hat while reading my manuscript and took copious and helpful notes. I love you, Daddy.

 

A gazillion hugs to Jessica Whitney, who always calls me “sweet girl” when I need it the most. Everyone should have such a delightful coconspirator.

 

Lori Gondelman has obtained goddess status. She proofread chapters, offered endless encouragement, yelled at me to write faster, told me what should stay and what should go, and mailed me bags of Dunkin’ Donuts coffee so I that could throw myself into a caffeine high and write until midnight. I suspect that she would have held my hand as I wrote would it not have interfered with typing. No one could have done more, and I am impossibly grateful for her unfailing belief in this book and in me.

 

Christy Poser shared her skydiving experiences with me via telephone and even sent DVD copies of her jumps. Although she is obviously a freakish daredevil, Julie owes her one. As do I.

 

Authors Karen MacInerney and Heather Webber are simply brilliant. Both pointed me in the right direction and managed not to be obnoxious about how right they were. They are total smarties, talented writers, and fabulous friends.

 

Thank you to Meg Travis, Shelly Toler Franz, Caitlyn Henderson, Carrie Spellman, and Pixie Poe for reading various versions of the outline and manuscript and showering me with support. I’ve known Meg since junior high, and she is as unforgettable now as she was then. Shelly and Caitlyn are both an author’s dream and proof that Facebook friends are, in fact, real friends. Carrie is a trusted reader and reviewer, and her glowing words were the boost I needed to finish the book. Not only is Pixie a book fiend, but she has a cool name and owns a pink Christmas tree. What more can a girl ask for in a friend?

 

The obscenely brilliant Adam Conner-Sax deciphered MIT speak and put up with my babbling as I figured out my characters. As he has his entire life, he showed himself to be warm, adorable, and frighteningly well rounded.

 

A captain’s nod to Jonathan Slavin, who enjoys every Jaws movie as much as I do.

 

The incomparable and devastatingly funny David Pacheco was generous enough to provide the large majority of the status updates for the book. (Dave, pay attention; this is where you are getting credit for your genius.) He patiently tolerated my many questions and answered them all with more attention and humor than they deserved. As a thank you, I will be sending him a zombie, a time travel machine, a ledger for the Procrastinator’s Club, and a spray-cheese sandwich. Follow him on Twitter @whatdoIknow if you think you can keep up. But don’t worry, most of us can’t.

 

Carmen Comeaux and Jim Thomsen were both kind enough to do fantastic editing work on a very rough manuscript. Carmen bravely forged ahead, even when my grammatical errors caused her to write “Horrors!” in the margins. And Jim will hereby be known as “The Hyphen King.” You two are impeccable, tough, and outrageously skilled.

 

Brian Yagel did everything from giving me real life technical support to spouting off geeky terminology that I still don’t totally understand. But it made sense to him. And he managed to remain charming even when saying things like “third-party app” and “console logs.” Enjoy your two minutes for those FB updates, kiddo.

 

Amazon has changed my life, and without them I might not be writing anymore. I’m not a fan of playing by rules, and knowing that I might self-publish through KDP let me write Flat-Out Love with total abandon. I got to write the story that I wanted to—the one I believed in—not the one that I thought legacy publishers would want me to. Deciding to self-publish this book was the smartest thing I’ve ever done. Now that I’ve signed with Amazon Children’s Publishing, I get to hold on to so many of the benefits that I’ve had, but now with the added support of a dynamic team. ACP not only supports writing outside of the box, they embrace it, and signing over Flat-Out Love and my next book to such a stupendous team is pure joy. Associate Publisher Tim Ditlow and the entire publishing team at Amazon are outstanding; their belief in me and in my career is deeply humbling, and I am deeply grateful. I have true partners now, and there is no better feeling. Amazon may be a massive company, but I know without a doubt that my team has heart, dedication, and a drive to try new things. They run to unchartered territory, and those are my kind of people.

 

My agent, Deborah Schneider, has been devoted to this book from the beginning, and she took the repeated this-book-will-never-sell rejections from traditional publishers as hard as I did. When I decided to self-publish, she cheered me on. “Give ’em hell!” she said. And I did. We did. Finally. Deborah, thank you for everything that you have done for me, and most of all, thank you for letting me yell, “Congratulations! You’re still my agent!” and not hanging up on me.

 

 

 

 

 

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

 

 

Jessica Park grew up in the Boston area and then went to Macalester College in frigid St. Paul, Minnesota. During her freshman year, there was a blizzard on Halloween, and so after graduation, she decided that she was not cut out for such torture. So she moved back to the East Coast, where, she’d forgotten, it still snows. Oops. She now lives in New Hampshire with her husband, son, bananas dog named Fritzy, and two selfish cats. When not writing, she is probably on Facebook, pining over eighties rock stars, or searching for the nearest Dunkin’ Donuts. Oh, and she’s a complete Gleek.